Chapter 2

Cam stopped by Jackson’s office on his way back from the briefing. General Landry had pulled the plug on P3N 55N. SG-1 was a diplomatic team—the diplomatic team. Neither Landry nor O'Neill thought the mission had any long-term value, and General O'Neill was worried about Daniel's preoccupation with the tablet. Vague references to hidden doors weren’t very convincing to busy generals. They couldn’t spare a team for weeks on what was turning out to be a simple archeological expedition. Cam just wasn’t sure how he was going to break the news to Daniel.

Daniel had finally decided that the writing on the tablet wasn’t really writing. It was a symbolic representation of the seasons indicating the passage of time from one year to the next. At least he was fairly sure it was. The cross in the center was formed from four tree trunks. Each tree showed a different season—the leafy branches of a tree in summer and opposite it the bare branches of a tree in winter; the budding branches of a tree in spring opposite the sparse branches of a tree in autumn. Daniel was amazed by the intricacy of the design. All the branches intertwined and formed an unbroken ring around the top. The four jewels embedded in the base of each tree sparkled with a life of their own. It was mesmerizing. Sometimes the stones felt warm in his hands. But what did it mean? He was convinced that the tablet was more than decorative. Jack’s suggestion that it was the Ancient’s equivalent of a trivet to put casseroles on hadn’t made much of an impression on him.

“Well?”

Daniel jumped as Mitchell’s voice cut through his reverie. “Hey, Cam. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Yeah, that's been happening a lot lately.” Cam, in his sweats, had a basketball under his arm.

“You look like you’re on your way somewhere. Did you stop by for a reason?” Daniel asked. He looked back at the tablet, already dismissing Mitchell from his thoughts.

As Daniel ran his fingers over the center stones, Mitchell watched him. Daniel was still tired even after his stay in the infirmary. Lam’s sedative, along with the painkillers for the headache, had kept him in the infirmary for more than twenty-four hours. She’d had finally released him a couple of hours ago. As usual, he was supposed to be resting in his room, but here he was in his office, working. Mitchell wondered how the hell he was going to tell Jackson that they wouldn’t be going back to the planet. He cursed under his breath at General O'Neill who'd dumped this job on him. “You're the leader of the mission, Mitchell, you deal with it.” For a general, the man was a coward when it came to dealing with Daniel.

He pressed the ball between his fingertips. “I’m looking for my wing man, Jackson. Come on. Let’s head to the gym. Teal’c wants to play a little basketball. He and Siler are going to take us on.”

Daniel looked at him, rather puzzled that Mitchell would want to play basketball in the middle of the afternoon. “Teal’c and Siler? Uh… thanks for the offer, but I really have a lot or work to do here.” He pointed to the stack of papers and artifacts spread out all over his desk.

“Come on, Jackson. You haven’t been out of this office in days. You’re going to get flabby and out of shape if you stay in here forever.” Daniel was about to give him another excuse. “Look, I could make it an order.” Daniel crossed his arms and raised one eyebrow slightly. A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes didn’t share the same humor. His eyes, even with bags under them, showed a stubborn determination. “Alright,” Cam amended, “I won’t make it an order, but you really need to clear your head. Dr. Lam doesn’t want you working right now. Come and shoot some baskets.” This was a better approach. He could see Daniel thinking about it. “I’ll meet you in the gym in fifteen minutes.” Walking down the hallway, Mitchell was proud of himself. “I’ve got twenty bucks says we whup their butts,” he yelled from down the hall. “So don't be late.” He might actually get Jackson out of his office and away from that damn tablet.

Now, if he could just figure out a way to tell him that they weren’t going back.

~::~

Teal’c and Siler crushed Mitchell and Jackson. Daniel wasn’t sure just how Teal’c found the time to perfect this Tau’ri game, but perfect it he had. Vala would never let him live it down. The aliens—and Siler—beat him every time. Daniel was tired and sweaty when Siler and Teal’c left to hit the showers, twenty dollars richer than when they came in.

“Sorry, Cam,” Daniel panted. “I don’t think I’m really on my game today. You’ll have to let me buy you coffee to make up for it.”

“As long as it’s not that industrial strength stuff you keep in your office. Let’s make it coffee and pie in the commissary. I’m hungry,” Mitchell replied.

“Great. I’ll see you there in a few minutes. I’m going take a shower.” He was about to head out when Mitchell called him back.

“How about a little one on one? I need the practice if we’re ever going to beat Teal’c.”

“I’m throwing in the towel, Cam. As a matter of fact, I’m going to grab a towel and a shower and get back to work—after pie and coffee. We’ll pick this up when we get back from P3N 55N.” Daniel started out the door.

Cam cleared his throat, “Yeah… about that. Landry thinks it’s time for us to be moving on. He’s got another mission for you to--”

“What? Cam, no! We have to figure out what that tablet’s for, what the writing in the chamber means!”

Mitchell could see Daniel's knuckles on the ball turn white. It reminded him of the infirmary. “I’m sorry, Jackson. Landry needs you to go with SG-12 to--”

Daniel cut him off sharply. “Colonel Mitchell, you don’t understand. Something on this planet has to do with the Ancients. We need to find out what it is. We can’t just quit now, not when we’re so close.” Daniel’s voice was loud and desperate; his eyes pleading. No wonder General O’Neill gave in to Dr. Jackson all the time. How did you argue with that kind of passion?

“Look, Jackson. It’s a question of resources. The SGC is under fire to be more fiscally responsible. You know that.”

Daniel’s face was no longer desperate and pleading; it was angry. “What’s being fiscally responsible going to do for us? Cam, I’m telling you--and you need to listen to me—that tablet holds the key to something important, some information about the Ancients that we need. I don’t know what that is yet, but I intend to find out. I just need more time. What the hell is Jack thinking, canceling this mission?”

Daniel’s sincerity wasn’t lost on Cam, nor was he surprised that Daniel knew who was really behind the order. He let out a sigh. “Alright. I don’t know how much luck I’ll have, but I’ll talk to Landry and O'Neill. I’ll see if I can talk them into letting us go back, but I’m not promising anything….”

Daniel grinned. He placed his hand under the basketball he’d been clutching and lofted it into the air. It sailed toward the basket, catching the rim. Slowly, it circled the basket, once, twice, then fell through the net into Mitchell’s waiting hands.

“That’s my wing man! Why couldn’t you do that when Teal’c and Siler were here? We’d be twenty dollars richer,” Mitchell said. He was about to throw the ball back when he saw the look of amazement on Daniel’s face.

“That’s it!” he said. “That’s it. Cam, I’ve got it.” He grabbed Mitchell’s arm just before he took off running down the hallway back to his office.

He could just hear Mitchell’s voice floating behind him. “Got what? Is it going to help me get my twenty bucks back?”

~::~

Sam and Teal’c met up with Mitchell a few minutes later in Daniel’s office. Mitchell had stopped to have a quick shower and to change his clothes, but Daniel was still in his sweats. For the sake of all concerned, Sam hoped he’d go shower before too long. She found Daniel frantically sorting through the stacks of paper on his desk. Cam had told her about Daniel’s cryptic remark in the gym.

“Daniel, what is it? What are you looking for?”

Daniel didn’t hear her. He was muttering something about the south wall in the temple. Sam saw that by now more papers were on the floor than on the desk. Daniel was not going to be happy with himself when he finally slowed down enough to see the mess he’d made.

She tried again, a little louder. “Daniel, what are you looking for?”

“Oh, hi, Sam,” Daniel said, barely looking at her. “I need the pictures of the south wall, the ones with the writing on it, the one with the ovals with the dot in the middle.” His voice was excited and his eyes bright as he looked through the stacks by his computer. Too bright, Sam thought. He’d been pushing himself hard since their first trip to P3N. Not that Daniel didn’t always push himself, but this assignment had quickly turned into an obsession. She and General O’Neill had even joked about it in the infirmary. Maybe it wasn’t much of a joke anymore. The few hours of sleep yesterday hadn’t  erased the bags under Daniel’s eyes. She knew Cam was concerned as well, although he hadn’t said it in so many words. She looked over to see him frowning at Daniel. He glanced her way and shrugged his shoulders, but his expression didn’t change.

“Well, Jackson.” Mitchell said. “You wanna fill the rest of us in?”

Daniel finally came up with a printout of the south wall in his hand and a big grin on his face. “Here, see for yourself.” He pushed the paper across the desk to Sam and Mitchell. Teal’c leaned over to see as well.

“Not seein’ anything, Jackson,” Mitchell replied. “Just some Ancient writing, which you tell me doesn’t mean anything.”

”But look at the ovals. Do you see how they’re arranged? That’s the answer.”

I haven’t figured out the question yet,” Mitchell muttered. From the elated expression on his face, Daniel obviously expected them to know what he was talking about.

“Daniel, I’m not following you. What is it you see here?” Sam asked. “You said before that the words on the tablet were nonsense.”

“The words are still nonsense, Sam. I mean, I’m still working on that part. They say something about ‘reveal the past’ and ‘restore the future.’ I don’t understand it yet. But I know what the circles are. They show the time of year. The jewels in the ovals show the planet’s position in relation to its sun.” Daniel looked around the room only to see that Sam, Mitchell and Teal’c still weren’t following him. “Look. There are four separate symbols with the oval and dot in the middle. Each one represents a season of the year. The oval shows the planet’s orbit around the sun.” Daniel trailed off looking expectantly at Sam.

“I see where you’re going with this,” she said. “The four symbols are the four seasons.”

Mitchell started to follow the drift of the conversation. “I get it. The spring and fall equinox, and the summer and winter solstice. And you got this idea from a basketball?” He looked up to see Daniel nodding excitedly. “Interesting, but what good does it do us if the rest of the writing is gibberish?”

“Well, I think it’s a code. Look at the tablet. Each tree represents a different season. All we have to do is figure out what the tablet relates to in the chamber and how the code--what the code activates. Actually,” Daniel’s brow furrowed as he ran his hand over the tablet, “I don’t know for sure how the code works, but I think it has something to do with these crystals.” Again he felt the gentle warmth crawl up his hand and into his arm.

“Daniel Jackson, do you think it opens a hidden chamber somewhere in the structure,” Teal’c asked, “like the chamber that held the machine on Dakara?”

Daniel was startled out of his musing by the deep voice. “I have no idea, Teal’c. Maybe. But now,” he looked at Mitchell, “I think we have something to bring to Jack.”

~::~

Of all the things Mitchell never imagined himself doing, this had to be close to the top of the list. Okay, meeting an alien or two was probably closer to the top, and going through the Stargate was probably at the top, but still, this was right up there. He was having dinner, with not one, but two generals. He was in Daniel Jackson’s living room, sipping a cold beer and arguing about whether or not steaks should be served rare or well done. Sam swore that eating a rare steak was good for the digestion, while Landry insisted he wanted to eat steak, not a cow on the hoof.

Mitchell took another swig of his beer, wondering how long it would take for the other shoe to drop. General O’Neill hadn’t officially given SG-1 the go ahead to return to P3N 55N, and so far Mitchell hadn’t seen any fireworks between the general and Daniel. But it was just a matter of time—and he had front row seats for the explosion. In the meantime, he really should be paying attention to the conversation.

“…were giving the nurses a hard time, Daniel.”

“Jack, I never give the nurses a hard time. Where did you hear such a rumor? And how would you know? There wasn’t even a nurse in the infirmary when you dropped by for your visit.”

“You always give the nurses a hard time. You know you get more shots in the ass than the rest of us put together.”

“Doesn’t have anything to do with giving the nurses a hard time.”

Jack swallowed fast before he choked on his beer. Sam looked like she was about to fall down laughing and Landry was a little surprised that his reserved archeologist would say such a thing. Only Teal’c managed to keep a straight face, but Mitchell thought the eyebrow twitched just a little.

“But back to the question,” Daniel continued. “Where did you hear that I was giving the nurses a hard time?”

O’Neill glanced pointedly at Mitchell, and Daniel, following the look, turned to glare at him.

“What?” Cam asked.

Daniel turned back.

“What? I didn’t say anything.” Cam looked at Daniel who was trying his best to ignore him. “Not that it wouldn’t be true, but I didn’t say anything.”

O’Neill, obviously satisfied with the chaos he’d created, moved on to other topics.

“So, Daniel. I’ve already told SG-12 that they could have the pleasure of your company on their next mission. They need an experienced negotiator to arrange a trade agreement. It looks like it might be another Unas burial ground and mine, although they haven’t actually found any Unas, just some nice village elders. They were looking forward to working with SG-1.”

Cam watched Daniel’s almost expressionless face, expressionless to anyone who didn’t know Daniel as he did. Oh, boy. This was going to be good. Daniel was obviously about to go into lecture mode and, from the look on his face, it was going to be a long one. He hoped the fridge was well stocked with beer because sooner or later (later from the look of it), he was definitely going to need another beer. He waited for Daniel to get started, but Daniel, leaning comfortably back in the chair, stayed quiet.

Well this was different. Cam took his cue and leaned forward to look at the two generals. He glanced briefly at Sam who was also watching carefully—and smiling just a little. He said, “General, I think you’re going to want to pass along our regrets to SG-12. We’re going back to P3N 55N.”

~::~

Jack didn’t say anything. This was just the opener. He’d been watching Daniel carefully, and he knew something was up. Clever of Daniel, he thought, to give the play to Mitchell. He, too, leaned back in his chair.

But Landry, sitting beside him, wasn’t about to let Mitchell’s declaration go. “Colonel Mitchell, I think you’ll find that it’s up to me to decide if you go back to P3N 55N or anywhere else for that matter. Maybe you’d like to tell me why you think I need to disappoint SG-12?”

Jack could see the grin spread across Daniel’s face although he still didn’t say anything.

Mitchell caught it too, and try as he might, he couldn’t keep an entirely straight face. “Because, general, Daniel knows how to open the door.”

“The door in the south wall?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Which you told General O’Neill didn’t exist?”

Mitchell looked a little uncomfortable and Daniel grinned a little more.

“Yes, sir.”

“And just where is this door?” Jack asked, “And yes, Daniel, I know it’s in the south wall so don’t go there.”

“Actually, Jack, going there is exactly what we need to do.”

“Colonel Mitchell,” Jack said, ignoring Daniel for the moment, “where exactly,” he narrowed his eyes to glare at Daniel for a second, “where exactly is this door?”

“We don’t know, sir.” Oddly, Mitchell didn’t look at all worried about the minor fact that they still hadn’t located the elusive door Daniel was so sure existed.

“Then we need to go back, why?”

“Because, sir, Dr. Jackson has the combination to the door. Once we find it, the code on the tablet will open it.”

Jack threw up his hands in surrender. “Fine,” he said when he saw Hank's smile. “Go back to the planet--see if I care.”

The smoke billowing in from the patio had everyone running outside to save the meat, everyone except Jack and Daniel.

“You sure about this, Daniel?” Jack asked after everyone was gone.

“I’m sure. We have to find the door, Jack.”

“You know Lam’s going to have my ass in a sling for letting you go back to the planet.”

“You can take her,” Daniel said. “You’re a general. Oh, and Jack,” he added, “SG-1 needs its fourth back. Cam’s a good man, but it's time. We need you back.”

Jack took a swig of his beer. Daniel was right. It was time to get the band back together. He'd tie up his business in Washington and get back to the SGC as soon as possible.

~::~

The door of the room swung open without a sound. Daniel and Mitchell stood open-mouthed staring at the expanse in front of them. The room obviously hadn’t been used in hundreds of years, maybe more. Cobwebs hung from the heavy furniture and dust filled the air. It was a long and narrow room with high windows lining the top of the wall. The morning light caught the dust motes and made them sparkle. The floor, too, seemed to shimmer in a whirl of light from the marble tiles of a colorful mosaic spread out in overlapping circles. Underneath the windows, dozens of what Daniel supposed had to be called bookshelves lined the walls. Actually, the shelves were more like little cubby holes, each holding a dozen scrolls, all rolled loosely and held together with something that looked like a napkin ring. There were hundreds, perhaps thousands, of scrolls in the room.

Daniel’s eyes went wide as he turned slowly to take in the whole room. “Hoooly buckets!” he said softly. Row upon row of scrolls filled the walls of the room, spilling over to almost cover the huge tables. He just had to reach out and touch one of the scrolls. Hopefully, they hadn’t been in the temple so long that they crumbled as soon as someone touched them. But somehow he knew that wasn’t going to happen. He could reach over, unroll one of the scrolls, and read about a civilization that had been gone for maybe thousands of years. What could they contain: stories of ancient heroes, plays, scientific and mathematical revelations? Imagine finding an entire library on a planet like this, a planet that didn’t even have a written language--which in a minute, when he was done being awestruck by the wonders in this room, was going to bother him.

Societies, Daniel knew with certainty, developed a written language and then kept it. He couldn’t think of a situation where written language had just disappeared, except on Abydos where Ra had outlawed the written word. Even on Abydos there had been something. So where had these come from? Where were the people who had written all of these scrolls? Armith had told him in their hours together that it was against the law--and had been for years beyond count--for people to read or write. “No, this is not a good thing, Daniel,” Armith had said, “but we know no other way.” How could that be when this library existed?

According to Armith, the building, including the hidden scriptorium, had been sealed after a failed slave rebellion. Because of that rebellion--because the scribes had started it and failed to complete it--the written word had been all but eliminated. For many years, it had been against the law to learn to read and write until people no longer understood the reason behind it. For Daniel, it was a tragedy that all this learning had been locked away for centuries. He thought back to Abydos, to the people he loved, to a home gone long ago, gone even from the skies. He’d make it his job to see that these people learned to read and record their own history. He’d bring them into the library and teach them.

Mitchell, seeing Daniel extend his hand to open one of the scrolls, quickly moved forward to intercept him. Stepping in front of him he asked, “What’s the rule about touching things?”

Even as he tore his attention away from the treasure trove in front of him, Daniel had to laugh at Mitchell’s warning. “Right. No touching. I got it. But I really don’t see a threat here, Mitchell, do you? Obviously, the room hasn’t been used in years. The people on this planet don’t even know the room is here. What could possibly go wrong?”

“What could go wrong? Are you kidding me? This is you and me. Anything could go wrong. It could be a booby trap for all we know.”

“The Ancient's don't booby trap libraries.”

“Fine. But maybe it’s not the Ancients. Maybe it’s their distant cousins who do booby trap libraries. Just to be on the safe side, why don’t we do a sweep of the room, check for anything suspicious or out of place, any instructions,” he grinned at Daniel, “and then you can read to your heart’s content.” He looked over to see Daniel laughing at him. “Okay, you stand over there by that big table and don’t touch anything. I’ll round up Sam and Teal’c and we’ll get started.”

Daniel indicated his surrender by raising his hands in the air. “I’ll just stand over there, sir, not touching anything, until you get back with Sam and Teal’c. But I hope you don’t mind if I look around a little while you’re gone--maybe see if I can find an instruction manual listed in the card catalog.”

He moved across the room to the far table, turning his head back and forth in awe. The bookshelves went from the floor all the way to the window ledge and the entire length of the room. Daniel could tell from the layout that the room was a scriptorium, a room set aside to copy scrolls. On Earth monks performed that job until the invention of the printing press in the fifteenth century. Each desk had several tall stools around it and the windows were positioned so that, no matter what the time of day, there was ample light on the desks. Scribes must have sat here in this ancient library for years copying scroll after scroll. This was a linguist’s dream.

The table in front of him was filled with opened scrolls, quills, dried out ink pots, something that reminded Daniel of an astrolabe, several drinking vessels, and more gadgets and doodads than Daniel could hope to identify in months of study. Yet somehow things here seemed… familiar.

Resisting the urge to touch, which was like trying to deny the force of magnetism, Daniel craned his neck to read what, if anything, was written on the scrolls strewn about the table. It looked like someone at one time intended to come back, like they’d left in the middle of a project. A crooked grin passed over his face. In some ways it reminded him of his office at the SGC. Daniel turned to Mitchell. “And you thought my desk was bad.”

“At least yours isn’t covered in dust.” Mitchell leaned over another desk, trying even as Daniel did, to see the writing on the scroll.

“Well, not covered. I have to keep it fairly clean. Allergies. And dust isn't good for the artifacts.” Daniel wasn’t really paying attention to Mitchell. He was already attempting to translate the writing on the center scroll, But he kept his hands at his sides.

“Can you read any of that?” Cam asked. “What’s it say?”

“Umm… maybe. It looks like a variant of the writing in the main chamber of the temple. An older version or another dialect maybe….” Daniel’s voice trailed off and he frowned as he concentrated on translation, oblivious to the fact that he’d never finished answering Cam’s question.

Cam stood in the doorway. He knew he should go get the rest of the team but it was too much fun to stay and watch Jackson suffer. Even as they joked, Cam saw it was taking every ounce of self control that Jackson possessed not to reach out, grab one of the scrolls off the shelf, plunk himself down on a stool, and start reading. Cam was enjoying himself entirely too much when he saw Daniel take a step nearer to the table to peer at the center scroll more closely. He felt a faint ripple in the air and Daniel was gone. He blinked, too stunned for the moment to do anything but stand staring at the spot where Daniel wasn’t. Then he saw the tablet Daniel had been holding suspended in midair. A second later it dropped to the floor with a loud clatter.

~::~

“What the hell do you mean he was just gone? You didn’t see anything? You didn’t hear anything? Why weren’t you watching his six? He’s a damned civilian archeologist for God’s sake!”

Anger radiated off General O’Neill like the heat of a blast furnace. Mitchell had never seen anyone so angry, nor did he want to be on the receiving end of that anger now, especially when he felt as guilty as hell that Daniel had disappeared right before his eyes and he’d done absolutely nothing to stop it. He wasn’t sure what he could have done, but there must have been something. People didn’t just disappear into thin air. The general was right. It was Mitchell’s job to protect SG-1, the civilian archeologist included, and he’d screwed up.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Mitchell answered. “I don’t know how else to explain it. He was standing right in front of me and then he was just gone.” He listened to the commotion coming from outside the temple. The area was crawling with SGC personnel. SG-5 and SG-4 were doing an extensive perimeter sweep, and Teal’c, along with SG-12, had gone to question the villagers. Colonel Carter, Ferretti, and the members of SG-2 were scouring the inside of the temple, including the newly discovered library.

Jack paced back and forth from one end of the small command tent to the other trying to control his anger. Mitchell wasn’t to blame for Daniel’s disappearance. He knew that. He’d been around Daniel long enough to know that trouble would find the man even if he were surrounded by a division of Marines. He certainly hadn’t been able to keep Daniel from getting hurt or even killed. Hell, even as an ascended being Daniel got into trouble. And Daniel wasn’t really just a civilian archeologist anymore, at least not in the same way he’d been ten years ago. Daniel was a competent, if occasionally distracted, soldier who could plot tactics and assess danger with the best of them; someone who was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Even knowing all that didn’t make Jack feel any better. As a matter of fact, it made him feel worse. Daniel must have been taken by surprise.

Taking a deep breath, he tried again. “Okay, colonel, suppose you tell me exactly what you and Daniel were doing just before he disappeared.”

“Well, sir, we were looking at the scrolls on the tables. I was about to go and get Colonel Carter and Teal’c to do a security sweep of the room. I told Jackson not to touch anything. He walked across the room to the big table and just—” O’Neill glared at him. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know how else to say it. He just vanished.”

“Did he touch anything?”

“No, sir.”

“I’d like to know how you managed that, colonel. I was never able to get Daniel to leave stuff alone no matter how many times I told him not to touch.” Jack paused again, hoping the tacit apology was enough. “No rings, no Asgard beam, nothing like that?” He paced to the far side of the tent and stood with his back to Mitchell looking out the small window at his search teams. How could Daniel do this to him again? How many times did this make? How the hell could Daniel “just disappear” on an archeological mission?

“No, sir. Except—”

Hearing Mitchell pause, O’Neill forced himself to focus on the present. He turned around. “What?”

Mitchell winced a little. “The air seemed to… shimmer… right before Jackson disappeared.”

“Shimmer, colonel?” He raised an eyebrow in a way that would have done Teal’c proud.

“Yes, sir, like a heat haze on the highway. Sir, I was looking right at him. The air shimmered and he was gone. All that was left was the tablet.”

“Right. Well.” O’Neill turned away again. “You’re dismissed, colonel.”

Mitchell left the tent silently and Jack turned to look at the tablet, now sitting on the table in front of him. “Damn it, Daniel, what did you do this time?”

~::~

“Whoa!” O’Neill turned all the way around trying to see everything at once. Mitchell remembered Daniel’s initial reaction when he entered the room. General O’Neill had the same look of amazement on his face.

The sun was about to set but there was still enough light in the room to make everything glow softly. Even covered with dust, the room had an air of grandeur, an air of culture and learning.

“You actually managed to keep Daniel from touching any of this stuff? I’m impressed.”

O’Neill finished his survey of the room and turned to Mitchell. “Show me where Daniel was standing when he disappeared.”

Mitchell tried to retrace Daniel’s steps as exactly as he could. O’Neill walked beside him looking at everything intently. They walked through the anteroom with it's shiny stones embedded in the writing on the wall; they walked through the large scriptorium door; they stopped at the spot where Daniel had disappeared. “Here, sir. He walked over to this table and stood here trying to read that scroll.” Mitchell pointed at the scroll in the middle of the table. “Daniel was standing here when he vanished.”

Jack moved into the spot as Mitchell stepped aside. This was more difficult than he’d anticipated. Daniel had stood here just a few hours ago, and now he was gone. With a sigh, Jack got back to work. He searched the floor with its delicate mosaic, looked up at the vaulted ceiling, and reached out to touch the scroll Daniel had been so taken with. He knew even as he did that Ferretti would already have done the same thing. And Sam, too. Nothing gave him any answers. “Damn it, Daniel, where the hell are you?”

~::~

Jack finished the morning briefing. SG-5, under Ferretti’s careful tutelage, were at work cataloging the library. He knew Daniel would expect them to take proper care of the artifacts in there. If he got back—when he got back, Jack corrected himself--he would want to know where everything had been so that it could be properly studied. Daniel had lectured him time and time again about the proper way to care for artifacts, how important it was to know where things had been before you removed them from their original location. Jack didn’t see the point most of the time. It was just a bunch of scrolls. How could it make a difference if you moved one of them? He knew when Daniel got back—when Daniel got back he repeated to himself--he’d still get the lecture about the proper handling of precious artifacts. If Daniel found out he hadn’t been careful, he might even get yelled at. So Jack made sure they were careful.

Teal’c’s team hadn’t reported in yet. Realistically, after five days, O’Neill didn’t think he was going to hear anything new. God, he was tired. He hadn’t slept more than a few hours at a time in days. Nevertheless, when he saw Teal’c come into the tent, he was anxious for his report. He didn’t get it. Carter came running in breathlessly before Teal’c had a chance to even open his mouth. In her hand she held one the artifacts from the library

“Carter?”

“Sorry, sir. I think you’re going to want to see this right away.” She held out a piece of pottery.

“It’s a cup, Carter. A very old cup.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t you think this is more up Daniel’s alley? One of those wonderful artifacts that will keep Daniel happy for hours, if not days?” Carter just stood there with the cup in her hands.

“Why don’t you catalog it with the rest of the artifacts? Daniel will unravel its mysteries when he gets back.”

Carter said it again: “You’re really going to want to see this, sir.”

O’Neill wondered if the stress was getting to her. With the ongoing search, she hadn't had much sleep either. He sighed and held out his hand. Gently, she placed the cup in his palm.

“Well, Carter, it’s a cup. It looks like it had something gross in it at one time. Fortunately, it’s too old to tell what it was. But that’s it. What am I supposed to be seeing here?” Jack was running out of patience. He had things to do. Even Teal’c looked at Carter like she was nuts. Or as close as Teal’c ever came to looking at someone like they were nuts.

“Carter?”

“Turn it over, sir.”

Jack did. And then he sat down. He really hoped the chair was behind him, but it didn’t matter. Whether it was or wasn’t, Jack had to sit down. The chair was there, so Jack just sat and stared at the cup in his hand.

Teal’c looked from O’Neill, who was staring at the bottom of an ancient artifact, to Colonel Carter, who was staring at O’Neill. Neither one said a word. Finally, he reached over to take the cup from O’Neill’s hand. On the bottom of the cup Teal’c saw some faint scratches. Looking more closely he realized that they were letters, two letters: D and J. He wondered if there was another chair handy.

~::~

This time, Jack brought the tablet with him. He needed to walk through the scenario again, and he wanted to see just where, exactly, Carter had found the cup. She, Mitchell, and Bill Lee were examining one of Daniel’s scrolls on the far table. Ferretti had SG-5 pulling down scrolls from the top shelves, very carefully, Jack noticed. Several other members of Daniel’s linguistics staff were huddled over some dodads in the far corner of the room, all hard at work trying to find a way to bring Daniel back from wherever it was he’d gone. Jack thought that, as always, Daniel would be surprised when he found out how many people had worried about him and worked to bring him back.

Carter tried to give him a small smile as he made his way toward them. He tried his best to smile back. He was almost at the big table, almost by the spot where Daniel had disappeared--a spot he’d been avoiding as much as possible--when everything shifted and shimmered. Jack felt like he’d looked into a fun house mirror because the room seemed to fold up on itself for a minute. He blinked to bring everything back into focus. And then he gasped. Carter, Mitchell, Lee, Ferretti--everyone, was gone.

~::~

Cam watched O’Neill cross the room. It had been five days since Daniel's disappearance, and he didn’t know how much longer they could keep looking. Sam wasn’t really paying attention to Dr. Lee’s explanation of the scroll in front of them; she, too, was watching O'Neill. Then it was déjà vu all over again. He saw a faint shimmer, felt a ripple in the air, and O’Neill was gone; the tablet he’d been holding fell to the floor.

Sam's face went white. Before he could do anything, she ran to the other side of the table and grabbed the tablet.

“Sam! No! Put it down, now!” He followed her, hoping he could get to her before she also disappeared. But nothing happened. Mitchell saw the stunned look on Sam’s face. He reached out to take the tablet from her, putting it on the table behind him.

“I’m sorry, Sam.”

“I was so sure it would work. I had the tablet--why didn’t it work?” she whispered.

“Sam.” He understood the pain of being left behind “Sam, you can't--”

“I know. I just can’t lose them again, Cam, not both of them, I can’t.” She looked at the floor, the table, the tablet, and back at Cam. “Why them and not me?”

“Good question. Why doesn’t it work for you?” He reached over and picked up the tablet again. Could he take the trip Jackson and O’Neill had taken?

“Cam, what are you doing?” Sam’s voice was sharp.

“What, you can try to go save the dynamic duo and I can’t?” He paused, waiting for Sam’s reaction. She didn’t smile. “Sam we need to know if it works for anyone other than Jackson and General O’Neill.” He stepped into the mosaic circle and waited for.... Nothing. Well, it was a long shot at best. But that still left the question: Why had it worked for Daniel and O’Neill?

“Well, Sam. We’re both still here--and they‘re both somewhere else. Now what?”

~::~

Jack gasped in surprise. “What the hell--” He was still standing in front of the table. Everything was the same… but different. Jack reached for his sidearm, which wasn’t there. Neither was his knife, nor any other weapon he’d had with him two minutes ago. Even the ballpoint pen in his pocket was gone. He supposed it was lucky he still had his clothes. This wasn’t going to be good for his blood pressure, he thought absently. Spinning around, he tried to do a proper threat assessment. Yep, everyone was most definitely gone. The room was empty.

And then Jack noticed other differences. The table in front of him was the same one that had been there a minute ago, but it wasn’t dusty and he didn’t think it had the same stuff on it he’d seen just before everything changed. Things still had that half-completed look but they weren’t abandoned, just—left, like the person working there was about to come back. Looking more carefully, he noticed the light streaming in from the high windows felt like late afternoon close to sunset, although the air felt colder than it had a few minutes ago. There were sconces by each desk like the ones in the “other” room but here each had a candle in it. Jack felt the wax. It was soft but cold, so the candle hadn’t been used recently. He didn’t know if that was good or bad. If there were candles then someone might be coming back to work as evening set in.

From outside the room, Jack heard quick uneven footsteps approaching. Maybe it was the night shift coming to work. He didn’t think it would be a good idea for him to be seen. Ducking behind one of the columns, he tried to find a place where he could keep an eye on whoever came in. Someone was obviously in a hurry because the person--Jack could see it was a man--almost ran into the room.

The man had a dilapidated brown robe that reminded Jack of Armith and the council members he’d met yesterday—except their robes were in better shape. Mitchell had persuaded him that a trip to the village might add to their store of information. It hadn’t. But O’Neill did get to hear one more person talk about the amazing, and missing, Daniel Jackson. Armith been most impressed with the scholarly man he’d met, the man important enough to bring hundreds more to search for him, the man important enough for a great warrior like O’Neill to come looking for him. “You must find him, O'Neill,” Armith had said. “He is your friend; you must find him.” Despite his obvious concern, Armith hadn't been any help in explaining Daniel's disappearance.

Jack stayed very still and very quiet. The man had his hood pulled up so that it almost covered his face, and his hands were pulled into the long sleeves, probably to protect the wearer from the chill in the air.  As soon as the man was gone—Jack fervently hoped he was going to go out as quickly as he came in—he needed to do some recon work, check out the rest of the temple, maybe go to the nearest village and ask if they’d seen a wayward archeologist around anywhere.

The man in the robe stopped in front of the table. He reached down to pick up a handful of scrolls, several stone tablets, and one of the round cups that seemed, from the way the stranger held it, to have something in it. In his haste, he dropped one of the scrolls on the floor. Jack thought the rest were about to follow if the guy didn’t take a few minutes to get a better grip on his load. The man bent down to pick up the scroll and Jack heard him speak for the first time.

“Damn it!”

No, it couldn’t be! But as the figure straightened up, he saw that it was. The hood fell back to reveal the one and only Daniel Jackson. The hair was longer and the beard pretty scruffy, but it was either Daniel or his clone. Jack was so surprised to see Daniel right in front of him that he was almost too late to stop him from leaving.

He jumped forward quickly. “Daniel!”

That did it. The scrolls flew into the air, the tablets fell to the ground, and the cup smashed into a thousand pieces, the liquid in it splashing over everything.

Jack stood staring as Daniel turned around to look at him. The blood drained from Daniel's face. Jack almost panicked because if Daniel fainted, he didn't think he could get to the other side of the room fast enough to catch him before he hit the ground.

Daniel pulled himself together. “Jack?”

“Daniel?” Jack grinned. He'd found the wayward archaeologist.

~::~

“Jack?” Daniel had a hard time believing that the man standing in his library was Jack O’Neill. It was like a mirage in the desert, a hallucination, a dream you had while you were in a fever. Hell, he didn’t care what it was; he was going to walk over there and see if this apparition was real.

As Daniel reached out to touch his ghost, the expression on Jack’s face changed.

“Daniel, are you okay?”

With a breath like a sigh Daniel said, “Yeah.” He put his hand on Jack’s arm and felt flesh and bone.

“What the hell happened, Daniel? What did you touch that you weren’t supposed to? And don’t tell me you didn’t have anything to do with what happened here, whatever it was, because I want you to know in advance that I don’t believe it.” The scowl on Jack’s face was about the nicest thing Daniel had ever seen. Even more than the solid feel of the arm, this was proof that the real Jack was standing right in front of him.

Suddenly, Daniel remembered why he was here. He bent down to pick up the scrolls and tablets he’d dropped, shaking the dampness off on them and stalling a little, knowing Jack wasn’t going to like this--the “this” that said Daniel had to leave right now, and the “this” that explained what had happened to the two of them, although he wasn’t quite sure why it was now two of them and not just one of him. His mind was wandering.

“Jack, I can’t stay and talk, as much as I’d love too. I’m due back at the council meeting--five minutes ago--and if I don’t get out of here now, someone’s going to come looking for me, and believe me, that wouldn’t be a good thing.”

Before his friend could argue Daniel continued, “Look, I have to go. I’ll be back in a couple of hours, I promise.” To himself, Daniel hoped he could keep that promise. “Stay here. No one should be coming in at this time of day. The workers left for the evening meal an hour ago and won’t come back until sunrise.” Daniel saw Jack look at the sconces. “Well, most of the time they don’t come back until morning, but I know no one will be back tonight. I wouldn’t be here except that I forgot the scrolls. But I have to leave now. Wait for me. I’ll be back.” He gave Jack a quick reassuring grin and stumbled out of the building.

Well, Jack thought, that was like most his conversations with Daniel. He didn’t understand half of what Daniel was saying and he hadn’t managed to get a word in edgewise. On the other hand, if he was worried that Daniel wasn’t Daniel, he had his proof to the contrary. Who but his Daniel would talk like that? God, but it was good to see him, alive and whole: no broken bones, no damage that Jack could see, well enough to talk nonstop--that was usually a good sign of Daniel’s overall health—a little breathless and distracted, but hey, that was Daniel at his best.

Jack relaxed a little. If Daniel was right, and Daniel usually was, no one would be back until morning, so Jack didn’t need to worry about being discovered. Daniel would be back shortly to explain to him how all of this had happened. Then they could make plans to go home.

But as he sifted through Daniel’s words, his smile faded. There was something Daniel wasn’t telling him. He was nervous about something, maybe even afraid of something. What was so important that Daniel couldn’t stay and talk? It couldn’t be everyday that a good friend popped out of one reality and into another unannounced. Surely, whatever he had to do could wait for a reunion with an old buddy. If it was possible to go home, why hadn’t Daniel done so already? He ran the conversation over in his head again. Why wouldn’t it be a good thing if someone came looking for Daniel? Shit! What trouble was Daniel in this time?

~::~

Daniel felt the heavy silence. He and Jack kept pace through the darkness, making their way as quickly as possible from the temple to the mountain range ahead of them. Daniel thought it might be a day's walk, maybe a little more. He didn't like walking in the dark over unfamiliar terrain, but they needed to make good time, and they needed to be out of the village, far out of the village, by morning. In another couple of hours, he'd call a halt and see about taking a rest for an hour or two. What they'd do when they got to the mountain, he didn't know.

“When were you going to tell me about your leg?”

As if the mention of it was enough, Daniel stumbled and almost fell. Jack grabbed his arm before he could take a header in the dirt. “I'm fine,” he said, shaking off the arm.

Jack wouldn't let go. “I saw you stumbling around when you came into the library. I've seen you limping on it for the past four hours. Daniel, you know you're going to have to tell me sooner or later, so tell me now and get it over with.” He guided Daniel over to a fallen tree trunk and sat him down. He pulled out the small flask of water, taking a drink before he passed it to Daniel, and sat down himself.

“Take it easy on that,” Daniel said. “I don't know where we're going to get more.”

“I figured,” Jack said, “but we both need it. As cool as it is right now, it's still desert dry.”

“That'll change in another few hours as we get closer to the mountain.” He recapped the flask and put it in the bag slung over his shoulder.

“The leg,” Jack said.

Daniel sighed. He didn't want to tell Jack how he'd been injured, but with any luck he'd already told him the worst of it when he'd told him about what he'd done in the village. Not that he’d done anything really terrible. He'd organized the scribes, and maybe he’d suggested that they get rid of their “employers” and replace them with new ones. He knew from experience that not all enemies were aliens with snakes in their heads or evil beings from another plane of existence. Sometimes greedy, abusive, power-hungry people were the enemy. So he'd organized a small rebellion before Jack showed up. That's all. When he'd tried to explain, Jack had been speechless.

“You did that in five days?” Jack had asked.

“Days? Months. I did that in five months,” Daniel told him. “Really, I didn’t do much. They were ready to do something even without me. I just helped them organize—gave them a little advice.”

The temple scribes had taken him in five months ago. They’d found him in the same way he’d found Jack--in the scriptorium in nothing but his uniform; no tablet, no weapons, no watch, and no way home. They’d dressed him in their own robes and hidden him away in the dormitories. Gradually, they'd included him in their work, setting him up at one of the tables and teaching him what to do. They;d explained him as a new worker and treated him as one of their own until the guards no longer questioned his presence.

Kamalon, the scrappy one, Anedon, the old man, Rad, the quiet one, Teo, the joker; they’d all befriended him, and they'd all come to see him off after he’d taken their written demands to the council--demands the council had taken great pleasure in ripping to shreds before his face. After that Kamalon and the others had handed him his old clothes and his bag, packed with as much food as they’d been able to horde from their rations. They’d sent him on his way, refusing to let Daniel take part in what was to come.

”Go home now,” Rad, who was no more than a boy, had said. “We are your friends but we are not your people, Daniel. Go to the hills and home. Find the temple and you will find those who wait for you. You have done your part; you‘ve taught us much—and we are grateful. But you can help us no more.” He was young and brave, with a cocky grin. He was so much like Skaara, it hurt.

Had it not been for Jack, Daniel would have stayed and helped, no matter what Rad and the others said. Their demands were simple; their needs few. These people wanted what people everywhere wanted. They wanted to be free.

He didn’t stay. After he said his goodbyes, he circled back, pulled Jack out of the temple, and ran.

Jack sat beside him still waiting for his answer.

 “I got into a fight with one of the temple guards. He caught me with his knife. That's all.”

“How bad?”

“Long and shallow, just above the knee. Not deep. It's painful, but not serious.”

“A knife fight?” Jack asked.

“They were beating one of the scribes for not moving fast enough. I… stepped in to help.”

After a minute Jack said, “I wish we had something stronger in that flask.”

This time Daniel was content with the silence. He rubbed his thigh with the heel of his hand, hoping to ease cramped muscles, and looked back the way they had come. It was the darkest part of the night. They were too far from the village to see it even as a spot on the horizon, but he looked just the same. “They'll be starting now.”

“You know you're messing with the time line?” Jack asked without censure. “Carter's going to be pissed.”

“I won't tell her if you won't,” Daniel said.

“They'll be fine, Daniel. You've done all you can do.”

“Maybe.” He sighed. “But I feel like I've abandoned them. I gave them all these fine and lofty words, and then I left them.”

“What did you tell the council at the meeting?”

“I told them we wanted to teach our children to read and write. I told them we wanted fair wages for a fair day’s work, and that we wanted to have our own homes and our own land--”

Jack interrupted. “I get the picture. Um, Daniel when you say ‘our’ children, you didn’t--”

“No, Jack, I didn’t. But one of the scribes I worked with, Anedon, is a grandfather. His son’s little girl was killed for telling her owner that her grandfather had taught her how to write.”

Jack tried to hide his shock. The death of a child hurt him more than any other, a pain that never went away and was never forgotten. For Daniel it must have been excruciating.

“I wasn’t there. I didn’t see it,” Daniel said as if he’d read Jack’s mind. “It happened before I got here.”

Jack spoke around the lump in his throat. “I’m surprised they didn’t kill the old man for teaching her.”

“They didn’t have to,” Daniel spit out. “They made him watch.”

Jack‘s chest tightened. God, not again.

“Anedon’s son died trying to defend his child. The little girl’s mother wasn’t there. She got word of the slaughter and fled to the hills. She could read as well. Anedon hasn’t seen her since.”

“You've gave them a future, a chance,” Jack said after a few minutes of tense silence. “You gave them a way to free themselves, to make a life for themselves. It's not so different from what you did on Abydos.” He patted Daniel's arm, offering what comfort he could. He knew it wasn't enough.

“On Abydos we weren't messing with the time line,” Daniel said.

“Hypothetically,” Jack said, “--and you know how much I hate hypotheticals--if you had the chance to go back in time and start a rebellion on Abydos, would you do it?”

“Yes,” Daniel answered without hesitation.

“Even if it meant that you never met Kasuf, and Skaara and Sha're?”

He swallowed hard before answering. “Yes, even then.”

Jack patted his arm again and stood up, reaching out a hand to help Daniel to his feet. He held the hand tightly to make Daniel listen. “You did what you had to do.” He squeezed the hand before he let go. “Now let's get the hell out of here and find a way home.”

Part 3

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